Slipping Away
by febitoria
Summary: Will is old and worn. To prove his grandson wrong, he tells him of his greatest adventure... and how his heart breaking saved him in the end. Sparrabeth. WT and OC. AWE's ending disregarded.
1. The Rocking Chair

**Slipping Away**

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**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the words. No characters but the little girl Elizabeth and her father belong to me... I just own the basic plot. Okay? No copyright infractions intended.

**Author's Note: **I felt like righting this because I was watching Corpse Bride, which has a character voiced by Johnny Depp, who played CAPTAIN! Jack Sparrow. It has nothing to do with Corpse Bride, though, so don't ask. Please review afterward and an early thank you!

* * *

The regular rhythmic creak of the rocking chair echoed through the empty house. The floorboards groaned under the chair, and, on a rare occasion would kick up extreme amounts of dust. The windows were blacked out by thick, blackout curtains, moth eaten and rotting. A hushed light filtered through, illuminating an old decrepit grandfather clock, at which the occupant of the chair was staring.

The old man wheezed slightly, coughing away some dust. His grimy, well-worn clothes flooded him like a tent, making him appear much smaller than he already was. He was waiting; waiting for the clock to strike three. He pulled his hand up to his face, tracing the wrinkles and folds of his skin. He was thinking deeply about the past... when he was young, healthy, and handsome... When he had all of his dreams, and, if he did not have it already, he would chase it. _Freedom_.

The chime of the clock sung three, and he looked expectantly at the door to the room, straightening himself up for what was to come. Precious minutes of his dwindling life ticked away, and he began to slump forward in disappointment. His grandson was always punctual.

With a burst, the grand doors slammed open, rattling the walls and making the man gasp for a breath, clutching his chest. A little girl came running into his room, looking around frantically for her great grandfather. Her gaze skimmed over him twice, but on her third scan of the room, her eyes rested excitedly on him. She squealed happily, jumping on his lap and flinging her arms around his neck joyfully. "Oh, great papa! Papa said he'd bring me to you yesterday, but he had business, so he took my today!" she said, obviously under the impression he didn't already know that and had waited a whole day. "Are you going to tell me a story again, great papa? I want to hear!"

He chuckled for the first time in weeks. "Oh, do you? Well, I must have a word with your Papa firstly. Where is he?"

"She glanced around behind herself, a puzzled look creeping onto her face. "I don't know. He said he'd be right in..."

"And I kept my promise, Lizzy! I just had to secure out carriage with Mister Evans."

Elizabeth and the old man smiled together at him, and he came forward, stretching out his hand to give the old man a thick envelope. "Grandfather, I thought you might be interested in these papers I found. I sure have; it's all I've been thinking of all week!"

The man leaned forward, placing Elizabeth on the floor. He opened his arms to his grandson, who cam forward and hugged him warmly. "Now, I thought I told you that since you are a man, you may call me Will?"

"No, I can't. It's too strange; I've called you that since... since before I can remember! I don't think I could ever part from the memories it holds... the stories you tell of your youth! Half of them totally fabricated!" he laughed, clapping Will's back, and adding quietly, "Met Jack Sparrow indeed..." Will seemed to hear, though, and his expression hardened.

"If they are fabricated, then why do you believe them? Why did you name your daughter Elizabeth, and your unborn child Jack? I have told you time and again, I would never lie to you. Every story I have told is true, and if you don't believe me, than I can tell you the most truthful of all! The only story I have never told a soul..."

Elizabeth squealed again, jumping onto Will's vacant lap. "Tell me! Tell me and papa!"

"Well, it all began with a beautiful girl... the Governor's daughter. Her name was Elizabeth..."


	2. Contemplating Life

**Chapter Two**

**Contemplating Life**

**Author's Note:** I realize the first chapter was horribly redundant: "The windows were blacked out by think blackout curtains" and "the regular rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock" in the first paragraph alone. I was kind of in a hurry (as if that is an excuse) because I had exactly what I want written in my head, but then when I sat down all I had was the basic idea. I don't know; my brain seems to fizzle out when I need it most (another reason why I get so worried about exams). Anyway, would you like to read the story? I'm sure you would.

Also, this is totally disregarding the end of POTC3, because it disgusts me and that would totally mess up this plot. I can hear Elizabeth/Will shipper's growling already.

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Elizabeth was staring at the waves blossoming from the _Pearl_'s hull. She stroked the worn railing nearly perversely, looking at it lovingly, then behind her. She looked out at the tranquil blue, sighing happily. Freedom had finally come, and with o price to pay: not Will nor Jack's life, not her life of privileges her father's superiority brought, not even her sense of peace. She felt perfectly at home, at last, after twenty-two years of wandering around the globe with her father and friends.

Peace, however, was wavering slightly. As she gazed at the waves, she found herself comparing Will and Jack. Again. _Will is so kind and gentle... but he never has fun; it's like he's afraid of something. But not Jack, Jack is free, he's kind too, but not so subtle. He also has the_ Black Pearl_, but he's a pirate, running from the law._ She had been thinking the same things for weeks now. When she saw them together, when she was alone, when they were apart, a all times of the night and day. She'd have nightmares where Jack and Will's characters were switched... The choice was so easy in those dreams. Someone was walking up behind her. She spun around curiously, backing up to the rail and clutching it.

Will was staring at her questioningly again. Sometimes she thought he could read her mind, that they were really meant for each other. But Jack could read her like a book... yet she didn't even know if Jack could actually read. Her expression flickered. _There I go again, with the contemplating... Will doesn't deserve to be hurt like this; all I'm doing is making it all worse. _

She knew she had been acting strangely in the eyes of the crew; she was acting strangely to herself. She couldn't eat or drink as much, except for rum (a tendency she had picked up from Jack that night they were abandoned on the island) and had been restless. She also spent more time alone, just her, the _Pearl_ and the ocean. She also had been more daring lately: when asked to climb to fix the sails, she would do it upside-down, always in danger of falling. She knew the way Jack and Will worried when she did this. She wondered who would run to help her first if she was to fall. Probably Will, with his new hero's complex. Jack had always had heroism - or rather a show-off complex, though... maybe they both would help at the same time. She just didn't know, and that was what caused her uneasiness. No. She couldn't call this state 'peace' anymore; she had to admit it. She could not decide.

They must have been staring at each other for ages. Elizabeth looked away, glaring at the boards - slick with tar and saltwater. Will opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish out of water. If you think of it, he was... he had never truly confronted hr before. "Elizabeth, I... I'm worried. What's wrong?"

"I don't know. So many things... I can't think of anything anymore, just... just _things_. Things I can't tell you yet... I would, but I can't think of the words to say it."

"What happened?"

"_Nothing happened_, Will! Don't act as if I'm a little child!" she felt tears in her eyes as she turned to stare him in the eye. She felt herself mutter, "Jack never does..."

_Will must have impeccable hearing _she thought as she read his shocked and jealous expression. She stared at her, agape, and then turned to stare at Jack, who was caressing the wheel lovingly, back to her. "You... but... you didn't do anything... we are still engaged, he wouldn't... but you couldn't..."

"Don't speak of things you know nothing about." she said coolly, gliding past his and too her cabin.

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**Author's Note:** I'm just keeping it as short as possible for easy reading, but still in depth, in a way. 


	3. Warm Rum and a Moldly Cabin

**Warm Rum & a Moldy Cabin**

Elizabeth stormed into her cabin, slamming the door furiously. It was closed and dark, with only a snuffed out candle to provide light. She didn't want light right now, it would only depress her to see the rotting wood of the cabin. It had nothing but a hammock, some clothes in rucksack stuffed in a corner, and a small table and chair to write on. There seemed to be a leak, especially when the _Pearl _was carrying exceptionally heavy loads. The smell of rot that was decades old filled her senses every time she thought of it.

She sat heavily on the creaky old chair by the desk, looking at her folded hands in her lap. Her head was hung sadly; she had not wished for a fight with Will, or to upset him in any way. All she wanted was some time to think (she had wanted a lot more 'time to think' of late, so she really couldn't blame him for wanting to have time with her), and he had interrupted it with his own suspicions about her and Jack. She hadn't even had any time alone with Jack, except last night...

She had awoken again, uncomfortable. There was only one answer for her when she couldn't sleep: rum. Warm, throat-burning rum. She had slipped down to the hold where they kept rum, and pulled a bottle from the barnacle-encrusted shelf. It was grimy and looked quite aged, but she took it. She took it to the kitchen, lighting a small fire in the stove and placing the rum bottle over it for a couple minutes while she cried. It was quite hot once she had finished her crying jag, but fished out anyway. An ember fell on the floor, sizzling. A spark flew, catching on the dry wood but the stove, lighting a minuscule fire. Elizabeth had cried out, stomping on it, and pouring some rum (which, she figured out a second later) on helped to fuel it. Her cry, because it was right across from Jack's cabin, had woken him, sending him stomping across the deck toward the open door. He found her slumped on the floor, crying with the rum bottle tilted toward her mouth.

Mean less to say, they stood up till the early morning hours drinking and talking about nothing in particular. However, the talking had helped her decide two things: one, he was smart: really and genuinely intelligent. Two, he was entertaining to be with, well, he was anyway, but especially when you are just talking to him.

Will must have heard their early morning bantering and assume that they had been together all night. _He is such a presumptive toad!_

A gentle knock sounded at the door. "What do you want, Will?"

"Will? I'm insulted! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love!"

Elizabeth smiled through her tears. He always had a sense of humor; Will had always and would always be dull and serious. She stood, opening the door. "Hello, Jack. What do you want?"

"A certain captain happened to be expecting the deck at the wheel a few minutes ago when I - I mean he - happened to see a certain Elizabeth fighting with her fiancée. I, being the good man I am, have come to see if you're all right. I think you should make up. I don't want him to be grumbling to me all day about how stubborn you are."

"Oh... oh, I'm sorry," she said, wondering what she was apologizing for. "I'll... I'll talk to him when he forgives me. Good day," she said airily, closing the door. Jack caught it before she could lock it.

"What I mean is that I order you to talk to him civilly, or you are sleeping with the crew," he said, frowning. She smiled, walking out toward the stairs to the deck. He followed her, muttering to himself about 'the trouble he had been through' and 'missing the dear old Kraken after this'. She sighed happily, emerging on the deck and sniffing the fresh salt air.

* * *

Later that night, she was on the deck again. She was propped up on her fists, her elbows on the smooth railing. Glaring moodily out at sea, she was thinking _again_. She had been getting even more annoyed with herself. This choice should be easy: Will. She had made that decision months, no, _years _ago, so why should her feeling change? He didn't do anything... well, except bargain with their enemies to free his father. She had done worse things: kissing James... and Jack, and killed hundreds of innocent sailors... and Jack. _It's funny how my thoughts always swing back to him... and Will. _

The stars were twinkling brightly above as she sang softly, "The bell has been raised from it's watery grave..."

"I don't like that verse. I much prefer the chorus," a voice whispered behind her. She jumped, spinning around once more to face Will. She stared at him, she mouth in a 'O' as she struggled to find words.

"Wh- what are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask the same," she said softly, stepping closer, "I was also going to ask your forgiveness. I confronted Jack about... about what I thought. He said that you just talked last night... well, I'd like to ask what you did in case he lied -"

"We only talked and had rum. Jack's a good man, more than you give him credit for!" She spun away from him, shaking her head. "You should have listened; you should know I'd never do that."

"I can't know, that's just it! You kissed him, you betrayed my trust, my love, everything! I really want to forgive you, with all my heart, but... but I can't! I see how you act around him... and - and I want you to act that way around _me_!"

"I don't act differently around him! I act differently around _you_! You are so naive, so full of yourself, always thinking you're perfect, and you are! That's what I hate, the only thing I hate about you! You are so unrealistic, like the handsome prince charming that's the same in every fairy tale that never changes or takes a chance! You are just here to have the princess, not have an adventure like her. You never have fun, or drink rum with me, or actually _talk_ to me, like Jack!" Elizabeth screamed, wiping tears away angrily, and gulped, whispering, "I used to want a prince charming, but times change. I changed... you_ never _change at all! You are too solid and firm, it scares me. You're not real to me anymore." She gasped, realizing what she had said. She had solved her own problem without recognizing it? Impossible!

"So. So that's what you think. You want _adventure_? You _need_ safety, and I can give that to you, like Jack never could!"

"I don't need safety, I could do that for myself, and Jack for me, too. You just don't understand, I need to protect myself, not be protected by you!"

His mouth was hanging open, "You need me!" Elizabeth walked toward him, staring in the eye.

"No I don't!" she spun off toward her cabin for the second time that day.

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**Author's Note:** I'm planning to try and type a chapter a day.


	4. Recognition

**Chapter 4**

**Recognition**

"Er... Elizabeth?" Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Jack, who was looking slightly nervous and playing with his hands.

"Hmmm?"

"I just relized... did you heat that rum on the stove?"

"Yes. Sometimes it starts fires, but it tastes better that way." she said happily, returning to the letter she was writing.

"Alchol is flammable, you know. You could have blown up the whole bloody ship!"

Elizabeth turned to him, her eyes wide. "I know. That's why it's so fun" she smiled widely, looking more mad by the second. "Here, read my letter to Will..."

_Will,_

_I guess I loved you but lately maybe not... remember that one time we met? Yes. I think I do. Well, I took the necklace of yours, if you didn't already figure it out. I think maybe that was the best thing I ever did, though. Do not mind the tide, and please don't touch Captain Jack's jar of dirt..._

_Cheerio! Elizabeth_

Jack's eyes went wide as he read, looking a bit frantic. "Lizzy, what happened?"

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**Author's Note:** The shortest chapter I'll write, I promise. I thought I should clue you in on why she was doing a potentially disasterous activity. _Cheerio! Febitoria_


	5. The Morning After

**Chapter Five**

**The Morning After**

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry it took so long to write. I was so at a loss of what would fit the situation, and I finally decided to break: the first part of this is Will's point of view, which I have never tried before. However, I think Will lovers will hate it in a way, since it's so infused with my dislike of him. I think it pretty much speaks for itself; and Jack's point of view it after that. Just a warning. Again, I'm sorry about my writer's block, it was catastrophic in and of itself.

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It can be said that morning is the time to start anew. A time to take a breath and forget all of the mistakes you made over the coarse of the day, or indeed, your whole life. Will took this opportunity with as much dignity as a whelp can muster. He would speak to Elizabeth, explain calmly why she was wrong, and she'd agree with his reasoning. And every detail would be perfect again: she'd jump into his arms and kiss him, and mutter apologies and wishes to be married into his ear. Married as far from the corruptive influence of the sea, and in turn Jack, as possible. 

It would be like it never happened, like they had never fought, had never lost the memory of their love. And they would live happily ever after. Preferably in a homely cottage in the countryside of England, with many children, and enough money to live in comfort for the rest of their days. He'd have his own blacksmith shop, with his own apprentice, and many happy customers who complemented him on his magnificent work. Jack would never find them, and they'd forget all this ever happened to them.

There was no problem in his plan at all.

Apparently, William Turner had no perceivable idea how stubborn Elizabeth Swann could be.

* * *

Only a few feet above the head of Will, the true captain of the _Black Pearl_ was sitting dutifully in front of his charts. He furrowed his brows in concentration, or rather, the effort to concentrate and failed miserably. He was quite worried after speaking to Lizzie the night before, and couldn't help himself from being a tad bit uneasy about Will's reaction to her lack of rationality, much less her note. He'd probably relate it to the anxiety of the want to be forgiven, the obtuse little whelp. 

Perhaps he should warn the little bugger? That would be the nice thing, the _proper_ thing to do, and yet it would lead to more problems. First, there would be the question of how and when he found out. He'd rather not share with the loony's fiancee that he had come to her room late the night before, even if it had been because he relized she could have blown up his whole bloody ship. Second, he'd have to explain about the whole 'stay up all night talking to the loony while drinking rum' bit. Which ultimately leads back to the question of his honesty.

He was a good and honest man (at least in his own and the loony's opinions) overall, and would rather not be engaged in a sword fight he would undoubtedly win, if only for the sake of the loony's mental health, or even his own rocky relationship with her. And there was the matter of --

"Blood buggering _Pearl_, I'm over thinking everything again!" her muttered, slapping his own face as if to wake himself. He stood, walking out of the cabin to find the whelp.


	6. Pride & Pilfering

**Chapter Six**

**Pride & Pilfering**

**Author's Note: **I was quite inspired last night, and actually figured out the plot, which I have been trying to work out for months now. By the end of this you'll figure it out, especially if you know I would love to write about... Sorry, I'm not going to spoil it for you. ;) Now, I give you Chapter Six, with a cleverly devised title courtesy of me and a dictionary.

I would also like to say that I have always wanted to write Elizabeth acting like a very difficult child, as it is nothing like her. And I finally get to!

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Jack stepped into the sun, smiling at the splendiferous smell of the open sea. It cleared his foggy thoughts swiftly, and he smirked. He spun toward the helm, striding toward it with a more satisfying sense of purpose. He pushed Cotton away from his place, curling his fingers around the spokes of the wheel. "Ah... much better."

* * *

"Elizabeth darling, we need to talk!" Will called in a singsong voice through her locked door, "Elizabeth?" He jiggled the handle a bit, tapping again on the door. He could hear her laughing on the other side. "Open up, Elizabeth, it's Will," he added tightly, studying the door closely for a few minutes while he waited for her to answer. "I know you're in there, so open the door or I'll - you know, these are only half pin barrel hinges?" he warned, lying to get her attention, "It would be no problem to -"

The door cracked open, and an eye poked out, staring at him. "Ooh, I don't like you! Go 'way!" she whined in an infant-like voice. When he didn't respond (he was a bit startled) she stuck out her tongue childishly, slamming the slamming the door.

"ELIZABETH! Stop acting so... immature! Open the door or I'll get the key, or, better yet, take it down!"

"NOOOO! No, no, no, no... NO!" she squealed, and he could hear her skipping away from the door.

"YES, Elizabeth. _Now_ open the door?"

"WHYYYY? Why, why, why?"

"Stop this at once, Elizabeth! Now _open the door!_" He was starting to get worried. Even when she was irritated with something, she never degraded herself. She was a woman of pride, perhaps too much at times. He would never believe she would do the willingly, if she wasn't doing it right now. She was raised too well. He pounded on the door again, and was met with poorly concealed giggles. "Elizabeth..." he sounded defeated now, and was astounded by his own acting abilities, "Please. Please don't play with me this way. Now what's wrong?"'

There was silence. She was either playing her game again or actually thinking. He felt his heartbeat, quick and painful, and counted the thumps. _One, two three..._ His head began to spin... _Six, seven, eight... _When she finally spoke, he gave a sigh of relief, for she sounded nearly normal. If it wasn't for that hint of something else...

Something he never heard her sound like before...

* * *

"Jack."

"Hector."

Barbossa rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. He needed information, and Jack was in one of his difficult spirits. He ran his hand over his beloved ship's wheel, and was rewarded with a dirty look from Jack. Ignoring him, he growled, "Where ye goin', Jack?"

Jack's nose twitched, and his grip tightened, "Nowhere of consequence to you, mate."

He chuckled. Jack was being careless again, lulled into security by his treasured _Pearl. _The ship had a way of doing that to your mind after a while, whispering to you until you gave in, until you gave up the bearings. "no doubt to retrieve the Holy Grail, the Cup of Time?"

"Doubtably or undoubtedly, it shouldn't make a difference," Jack sneered, and was answered with a rotten grin.

"More or less. I wouldn't know, since you are the cause of the loss of my resource," Jack snorted, refusing to look anywhere but ahead of him.

"The book was quite useful, actually. It told me quite a bit, that is, until I burned it," he said casually, leaning against the rail and facing Jack, happy with the fearful and indignant expression on his face.

"You burned me book?" Jack gulped. He was a bit uneasy over that; that book was unique, and he hadn't had the chance to read it while he had it, at least not completely, before Hector finally snatched it from him. He had tried several times before without success.

"Yes. It would seem you'll need me information... and you know it comes with a price..."

"You mean -"

"A drink from the Fountain of Youth."

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**Author's Note**: Oh my, what happens next? I need your help. I wont update before I get at least three more reviews, so all you have to do it press that purple button and say two or three words! Go on, it wont take longer tan half a minute! 


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